


Squeaky Clean

by saltandbyrne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Extremely Underage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam doesn't really need to be given a bath, not any more.  Dean just likes to watch him.</p><p>(Ages unspecified, Sam is pre-puberty)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Squeaky Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't read this if underage isn't your thing! Ok? Ok.
> 
> My one lonely fill for the first round of spn_masquerade, for the bulletproof kink prompt: _Simple request: Dean rims little Sammy for the first time, nibbling and sucking and licking his cute hairless little pink hole. Add any other kinks you like, I’m good with all. Boys as young as you like; I don’t mind how young they are._
> 
> http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/

Sam doesn't really need to be given a bath, not any more. Dean just likes to watch him.

 

He's stopped doing it when Dad's around. Not that Dad would even notice, probably. He'd snored his way through two of Sammy's huffed, grunting little handjobs last night while they slept across the room. This morning Sam had kissed him while their Dad went to the bathroom, surprising Dean and making his cheeks flush when Dad had walked out, Sam pouring out cereal with a breakfast commercial grin on his face. Little fucker. It's still better not to take any risks, though.

 

“Think you need some more soap, Sammy?”

 

Tonight is a night for risks, bless their father and his last-minute call from Duluth. Dean has Sam all to himself tonight and he's already aching hard, his dick straining against his jeans as he runs a soapy washcloth down the soft curve of Sam's stomach.

 

“Gotta get you nice and clean, right, baby?”

 

Sam nods, his lower lip caught between his teeth. His cheeks are pink from the warm bath and his little dick stands up beneath the water and Dean's cock throbs again. He's so perfect.

 

“Feels good,” Sam says, his eyes half-closed as Dean starts to rub the washcloth against his hard-on. Sam's still so small, Dean's hand big enough to cover his dick and his tight, smooth balls. Dean rubs him slowly, leaning in to hear the little sighs Sam makes.

 

Dean circles his hips, trying to soothe the ache of his cock against the cool porcelain of the tub. He's of half a mind to strip down and get in there with Sam, get all that warm, slippery weight on top of him and rub off against Sam's little ass.

 

“Love touching you, Sammy,” Dean sighs, nuzzling against Sam's temple. The damp curls of Sam's hair tickle his nose, smelling like generic no-tears shampoo and that baby-scent that still clings to Sam somehow.

 

“Wanna get out,” Sam mumbles, blinking and turning to look at Dean.

 

“I wanna see yours.”

 

Sam stands up, water streaming down his rosy body and his prick sticking straight out. Dean swallows as a pulse of warmth leaks from the head of his cock.

 

“Yeah, yeah, baby,” Dean mutters, his eyes flitting all over Sam's slender, wet body, his knobby knees and his flat little chest.

 

“Gotta get you dry first.” Dean reaches in to pull out the drain plug, tossing it onto the side of the tub as he reaches for a towel.

 

Sam folds his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes.

 

“Only if you take your clothes off too.”

 

Sam is hell on wheels when he sets his mind to something and this is hardly an argument Dean needs to win. He shrugs off his t-shirt and tosses his belt buckle aside, barely hearing the clatter it makes against the cheap tile floor. He staggers up, his heart racing with the way Sam's eyes never leave the swell of his dick.

 

Dean undoes his top button, wiggling his hips from side to side while Sam glares at him.

 

“Deeeeean,” he whines, reaching down like he's going to splash Dean.

 

“Ok, ok.” Dean feigns surrender and quickly unzips himself. He can't help but sigh as his jeans slide down his legs, looking down at the tented wet spot on his briefs. He steps out of his pants and kicks them aside, letting his toes wiggle into the bathmat as he steps closer to Sam.

 

“Wanna help me?”

 

Sam's eyes light up as he nods, little pink tongue darting over his lips. He curls his fingers into Dean's waistband and tugs, so roughly Dean huffs in surprise. His cock slaps against his stomach and Sam giggles. It's always been one of his favorite tricks.

 

“See,” Dean arches an eyebrow and wraps a hand around his cock, squeezing gently. “That's just for you.”

 

Sam nods, mesmerized as a pearly drop of precome beads up and slowly leaks down. It slides along the side of the tub and mingles with Sam's slowly-draining bathwater.

 

Dean shoves his underwear aside and grabs the towel, holding it in front of himself as Sam pouts.

 

“Now will you get out?”

 

Sam hops out quicker than is probably safe but Dean's there, kneeling with the towel in both hands. He dries Sam's hair and works his way down quickly, pulling Sam closer to him.

 

“Will mine be big like yours?”

 

Sam's back presses against his chest, his skin damp and warm. Dean shifts his hips, letting his cock press against Sam's thigh.

 

“Well, maybe not quite as big,” Dean teases, rubbing the towel down Sam's stomach. Sam's dick flags back to attention as Dean closes the towel over it.

 

“Will it be all hairy, too?” Sam leans back against him, his breath catching in his throat as Dean slowly rubs him.

 

Sam doesn't have any hair down there, not yet. He's pink and smooth and perfect and Dean feels a pang of sadness that Sam won't always be like this.

 

“Yeah, just like mine.”

 

Sam hums against him, jutting his little hips up into Dean's hand. Dean snakes his free hand down Sam's back, running the towel over Sam's ass. He presses it gently into the crack of Sam's ass, drying him off and kissing softly along the smooth curve of Sam's shoulder.

 

Sam starts a little as Dean runs the towel over his hole.

 

“I...” Sam hiccups as Dean works his dick a little harder. “I don't think it's dry.”

 

Dean stills for a moment, unsure until Sam arches his back and spreads his legs a little wider.

 

“Yeah?” Dean smiles against Sam's skin. This is new. “Gotta make sure you're nice and clean down there, Sammy.”

 

He slides the towel back and forth, rubbing it softly over the tiny furl of Sam's hole. Sam moans, curling into it and closing his eyes and all of a sudden Dean needs to see it.

 

“Gotta see if you're all clean, Sammy.” Dean pulls the towel back, letting it crumple on the floor. Sam squirms against him until Dean closes his palm over Sam's dick, giving him a few soothing strokes before he brushes his fingers up Sam's arm.

 

“Just lemme see, ok?”

 

Sam nods, huffing a little as Dean guides him to his knees. Dean's cock hangs heavy between his legs, leaking wet and throbbing as Sam bends over. His tilts his hips into the air, resting his elbows and knees on the bath mat and spreading his legs apart.

 

Sam's little balls ride snug against him, barely hanging below the smooth ridge of his taint. He's pristine, everything smooth and hairless and soft. The little pucker of his hole shudders slightly as Dean leans in.

 

Dean's breath ghosts over Sam's skin, and Sam lets out a tiny whine. He's so small down there, tight and pretty pink and Dean feels a thrill run through him. Not any time soon, but he's gonna put his cock in there one day and the thought makes his mouth water. Sam loves Dean's mouth on his dick, there's no reason he won't like this, too.

 

He starts slow, barely tracing the tip of his tongue around the rim of Sam's hole. His lips brush against soft skin and he freezes as Sam groans.

 

“Dean, don't,” Sam squirms, his spine arching up. “Don't stop.”

 

Dean grunts, and it sounds sort of filthy, muffled against the pliant flex of Sam's hole as he flattens his tongue. He licks long stripes up from Sam's balls to the divot of his tailbone, pressing his thumbs on either side of Sam's cheeks to get more. He swirls his tongue, circling closer to the hot, secret throb inside Sam until he can't help but arch his neck and dip it inside, just a little. Sam makes whimpering, animal noises that make Dean feel dizzy, drunk on it as he fucks his tongue in and out, Sam opening for him like a prize.

 

Dean's mouth is wet with his own spit and he couldn't give a fuck, not when he can drag his teeth along with perfect folds of Sam's hole just to feel them catch, to hear the little grunts Sam makes as he ruts himself back against Dean's mouth. Dean presses his lips flush with Sam's hole, everything pink and wet and swollen and he sucks, his eyes rolling back as Sam makes a high-pitched sound that's all glee and that perfect Sam-brat desire for more.

 

Dean's making noises that should shame him, hungry slurping sounds and pitiful groans but all he can think about is getting his tongue as deep in Sam's ass as he can. Spit pools on his chin and he licks deeper, his jaw going sore, throbbing along with his cock and the surety in Dean's heart that he is so, so gone on Sam.

 

Sam's shoulder dips and Dean's brain stutters, his mouth still working like he can lick Sam right down to the Tootsie pop heart. His vision focuses long enough to realize that Sam has wrapped a hand around his own dick and Dean almost passes out, tonguing greedily into his brother as Sam works himself at a frenzied pace. Sam might like this more than Dean does and fuck if that isn't the best part.

 

Sam lets out a hoarse cry and throws his head back, his body tensing around the little clenching, dizzy thing that passes for coming at his age. Dean can feel Sam's hole shudder around his tongue and that's it, he has to get a hand on himself or he's going to die.

 

Sam slumps down on the bathmat, rolling over with a lop-sided grin on his face that sets Dean's heart on fire. Cheeks flushed and damp hair sticking up in a thousand directions, chest heaving and his perfect, pretty little boycock twitching against his stomach – Sam is fucking gorgeous and all it takes are a few rough jerks of his fist and Dean's spilling all over that perfect, pretty little body.

 

Dean slides down next to him, the tile pressing cool against his skin. He drags a lazy finger through the stripes of come spattered over Sam's thighs and his soft, pink little prick. Sam kisses him, easy and sweet with the promise of no fathers or monsters or trouble, at least for tonight.

 

“You got me all dirty again,” Sam grumbles, a fake pout plastered on his face. He sits up on his elbows, his bangs falling in his face.

 

Dean grins, inching down along the floor.

 

“Good thing I know how to clean you up again.”

 


End file.
